Chapter Text
Mike was only supposed to stay in New York for a week. Yet he found the days slipping past him. One week became two—two became three, and then the acceptance letter sat on top of a box in the corner of his and Will’s new shared apartment. He knew this would happen. This always happened when it came to Will.
. . .
Will had convinced Mike to visit him over the summer. He had missed him, he said—Jane had missed him too, he added (though Mike would have gone to visit even if Will hadn’t added that last part).
It had been a year since the party graduated from high school and just about three since all the upside-down BS. Everyone said their goodbyes and went their own ways except for Mike. He stayed in Hawkins. If you were to ask him, he couldn’t even tell you why. He just felt that it was right.
But that year made him realize what he truly needed was to get out of Hawkins. He just about drove himself crazy between working at RadioShack and dealing with Holly and her friends. It seemed no space was his own anymore. They even kicked him out of the basement and refused any of his help regarding D&D. They apparently didn’t need any guidance from a “loser still living with his parents”. So, when Will invited him to come to New York, giving him an escape while letting him see his favorite people (The Byers family), he couldn’t say no.
He packed up his stuff and his mom drove him to the nearest station. With that he hopped on the Amtrak. His goodbyes were littered with false promises of return and that was it. Next thing he knew he was knocking on the door of Will’s apartment.
Of course the visit went great and everything fell into its usual rhythm. It was easy. Will was thrilled and not once did he complain. Even when the weeks bled together with no sign of Mike leaving. In fact, it was Will who urged Mike to apply to NYU and stay with him. And who was Mike to say no to Will?
. . .
Will had applied to NYU to study art and art history. He was aiming to become an illustrator for comics and books; had been since he was little and Mike admired that about him. He adored Will’s art and kept every piece he ever gave him in a binder, back in Hawkins, where he knew it would be safe.
Coincidentally, Mike always wanted to become a writer. He usually played as the dungeon master for this reason. At every opportunity he was writing stories. The pair had always dreamed about creating comics together. Mike would write the story and Will would illustrate it. It was like a match made in heaven, and Mike had to make it happen. It would be such a waste of Will’s talent otherwise.
Which leads him to his current predicament.
Will’s voice bled through the door as he knocked softly. “Hey Mike you in there?”
Mike groaned, feeling a headache starting to form on his forehead. Through bleary eyes, Mike lifted his head, staring at the clock. 12 PM, it read in big red digits. Mike scrunched his face trying to note the significance of said number. And then it hit him, like a freight train. He was 100% supposed to be in class in 30 minutes—which was all the way across the city.
“Ahhhh shit!” Mike yelled falling off the bed, landing with a thump and he was sure they’d get a noise complaint later. But that didn’t matter because at the same time Will let out a giggle from the other side of the door and Mike froze, positive his heart just grew wings. That’s new. He shook his head, crawling around the floor looking for something clean to wear, which happened to be a sweater, and then bolted to the bathroom.
It took him about 5 minutes to get ready and then another 5 to find a subway token in his mess of a room. When he finally emerged he was greeted with the sight of Will sitting at the counter with two plates, one empty and one with scrambled eggs and maple syrup. Silently Mike slid into the seat next to him.
“Thanks for waking me up. I could have sworn I had set an alarm up.” Mike started, eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah you probably did.”
Will started to chuckle. Mike looked up at him, curious as to what was so funny.
“We actually just got a call from the super. Apparently there was a power outage in our grid. Nothing was working all night.”
Mike stared at Will dumbfounded. There it was again. That beautiful flutter of laughter that made Mike's stomach flip. He smiled and turned back to his plate. He heard Will shuffle next to him.
“I thought we could go to school together since it’s the first day and we always did it in Hawkins. And our classes seem to be at almost the same time.” Will shrugged, walking over to the sink to discard his plate. He must’ve done the dishes this morning because Mike heard the plate clatter against the bottom.
Will strolled over to lean over the opposite side of the table, waiting for Mike’s response.
“Yeah that would be so helpful actually. I’d probably never make it to class on my own and I’d be stuck on the streets of New York crying for my dear Cleric to find me.” Mike put a hand to his forehead and pretended to fall backwards.
“Oh stop it. You’re so stupid.” Will swatted at Mike with his hand. If Mike didn’t know any better, he would have thought he saw Will turn red at the suggestion, but he disregarded it. He was still half asleep after all.
The sound of Will pushing away from the table snapped Mike out of his thoughts.
“We should head out. Your class is gonna start soon right?”
Mike shoveled the rest of his food into his mouth before placing the dish into the sink right next to Will’s. He grabbed his things from next to the door and slipped on his shoes. “Yeah, let’s go”.
Mike steps out into the hall first. He can hear Will follow after him, fiddling with his keys. Mike takes this time to look down the hallway. He tries to think of the fastest way to the school and starts to wish he spent more time exploring instead of staying in the apartment. He senses Will walking up to him before he sees him. It had become like second nature to him, after everything they had gone through, to be acutely aware of Will at all times.
Will steps up next to him and Mike is trying not to think about how close he is. He can feel the warmth radiating off his body. He’s so close to him. All he had to do was lean down a bit and he could—NO. Mike feels like slapping himself right across the face. What is wrong with you?
“Are you going to start walking or are you going to stand here all day?” Will joked, jolting Mike out of his thoughts. He would laugh, he should laugh but he can’t bring himself to—not after that sinful thought.
“Lead the way, Will the Wise.”
And just like that Will is rolling his eyes, walking in front of him talking about some new episode of Seinfeld that was on TV last night.
They reach the lobby floor of the building and greet the doorman before emerging into the hot Manhattan air.
They haven’t even made it to the station before Mike starts muttering about the heat, and really it is his own fault for wearing a sweater and jeans in August.
He must look like a mess because when Will turns to alert him to have his token prepared he gasps. Like actually gasps.
“Mike what happened? We walked like two blocks.” And before Mike can respond, Will is already reaching into his bag, brows knitted together.
“Just not used to th’ walkin’ in this weather.” Mike slurs, finding it takes up too much energy to talk.
“Here.” Will shoves his water bottle into Mike’s hand.
“S’fine. I don’t wanna drink up all your water. You probably need it more than me. I’ll manage.” He’s lying.
Unfortunately, the drawback of being best friends with someone for over 10 years is that Will can see right through him.
“You will drink this water or I’m never walking with you to school again.” And that’s all it takes for Mike to start drinking.
Mike doesn’t know why he hoped the subway would be any better. It was essentially a small car of people packed together like sardines. Now he’s standing next to Will, leaning against the doors of the car, hand on a hot metal pole for balance, while people fill the empty space around them like water. And really he’s gonna strangle himself for choosing to wear that damn sweater of all things.
But then Will makes eye contact with him, rubbing his thumb over his hand in reassurance and he’s sure he’s going to faint. His heart speeds up and he gives Will the smallest smile before tearing his gaze away to look at the ceiling. The worst part is he couldn’t even tell you why he suddenly felt like this. It was probably the heat. It had to be the heat.
Everything starts to blur together and Mike couldn’t tell you how long he was there but he hears the conductor announce, “West 8th Street - NYU” and suddenly he is getting dragged out by Will.
“Ahhh it was so crowded today.” Mike hears Will say while stretching. He sees a bit of Will’s stomach peaking through where his shirt rose. “Yeah I thought I was going to die from the heat,” he responds, shifting his gaze. His face is heating up again but he can swear the station was a bit cooler. It definitely should be without the mass of bodies hovering next to him, so he allows himself to take a few breaths.
Mike glances down at his watch. 12:40. Shit.
Will starts walking again and Mike can feel the dread of stepping into that lecture hall. He’s thinking about it so much he bumps right into Will.
“Ah Will I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” Will fixes his backpack and tells him, “Don’t worry about it. I should have warned you I was stopping.” He looks up. “We’re here.”
Mike slowly looks to his side, keeping his gaze on Will till the last possible second.
“I guess we are.” Mike turned his head back to Will. He stands there for a second just looking, falling into a comfortable silence. His hair’s getting a bit long. It looks nice. “What class do you have?” He distracts himself from his thoughts.
Will thinks for a second before responding, “I have an Art Technique class. We’re supposed to learn about different art mediums and stuff. I should be done by 2:30 the earliest. If not definitely by 3.”
Mike nodded. He felt like he was in some sort of trance. Will studied his face for a second adding, “Aren’t you late for your class?”
“Technically yes but it’s an intro to algebra class. I don’t really need it.”
Will’s face drops, his lips pulling into a tight line while his eyebrows are drawn tight. “Michael Wheeler.”
Just like that he’s out of that lull state.
“Forget I said anything!” Mike rushes out. “I’ll get going.” He turns to head into the building almost tripping. “I’ll wait for you in the library. Come find me when you're finished!”
Will snorts, giving him a thumbs up and that’s the last thing he sees before heading into his dreaded math class (and what a sight it is).